


Lost in the Urge

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Caning, Collars, Dom Draco Malfoy, Established Relationship, M/M, Masochism, Sub Harry Potter, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: Draco punishes Harry, but is it really punishment when Harry enjoys it so much?





	Lost in the Urge

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of the HP Kink Fest :) 
> 
> I’ve been dying to write a sub!Harry fic for ages, so I was excited to get the chance to finally write one :) Thank you to the lovely Amorette for her support and beta-ing ♥ Any remaining mistakes are my own

Harry kneels patiently on the cool marble floor, his head bowed and his hands clasped firmly on his knees. A satin blindfold has him bathed in darkness, and it is only that and a thick leather collar around his neck which adorn him, his otherwise naked body at the mercy of the icy air. 

His breath hitches in his throat as footsteps begin to sound across the room, heels clicking sharply against the marble. Harry never even heard the door open. 

Harry remains silent, as instructed, even though he itches to squirm as he feels Draco’s eyes appraising him. He can almost picture the smug satisfaction in those grey eyes, and he feels his cock twitch in response. He’s been hard ever since Draco sent him down here and told him to wait like a good boy for him. 

Draco tuts, and Harry feels a presence looming close to him as a finger tilts his chin up so that he’s forced to look up, even if he can’t see through the blindfold. 

“Look at you,” Draco murmurs, his voice smooth as silk. “Waiting for me like a good boy; you didn’t even touch yourself once, did you?”

Harry shakes his head, holding himself very still as Draco trails his finger down Harry’s jaw and neck, and over his chest. Draco’s thumb joins his finger to pinch Harry’s nipple sharply, and his body arches forwards as he whimpers in pleasure. 

“Back in position,” Draco snaps, and Harry immediately obeys, hanging his head once more. “It’s a pity, really, that you’re being so good, because I still have to punish you. Although—” Harry can almost hear the smirk in his words— “it’s not really, is it? You’re such a masochist, kitten. Stand up, Harry.”

Harry does as he’s told, and follows obediently when Draco attaches a leash to his collar and tugs him forwards. Harry has been in this dungeon plenty of times, but he never knows where Draco’s leading him because Draco always rearranges the equipment to keep it a surprise for Harry. 

As Draco positions Harry, kicking his legs apart and urging his arms upwards, Harry realises it’s to be the St Andrew’s Cross. Draco buckles the leather restraints around Harry’s wrists and ankles so he’s stood up, spread eagle and entirely at Draco’s mercy. 

His cock twitches again, eager for what is about to come next. 

“Hmm,” Draco purrs. “What do we fancy today?”

Draco says ‘we’, but Harry still hasn’t been given permission to speak, and even if he had, the choice belongs to Draco. 

Of course, Draco knows what Harry prefers, but it all depends on whether Draco is in a giving or taking mood. 

Draco’s hands slap down on Harry’s arse cheeks, making him jump. His fingers massage Harry’s tender skin as he pretends to consider his options. 

“A paddle, perhaps? Or a flogger, maybe? Decisions, decisions…” Draco pauses to slap Harry’s arse again, and Harry bites down on his lip to stop from crying out. “Ah, I know exactly what to use tonight.”

Draco steps away from Harry and his footsteps sound across the room as he moves to select his choice. Harry’s body feels electric with nervous anticipation, thrumming with desire and need.

“What better for my masochistic little pet?” Draco purrs as he returns, gently tapping the top of Harry’s thigh with a thin, narrow rod.

It’s the cane—Harry’s favourite. It’s going to hurt, he knows it, Draco knows it, and Harry smiles at the thought. 

“You can speak now, kitten, though I’ll be much happier when the only noises out of your mouth are cries of pain and pleasure,” Draco drawls, tapping a gentle rhythm on Harry’s thigh with the cane. “Tell me our safeword.”

“Snitch,” Harry says. “Please, sir—”

His words are drowned out as he lets out a strangled cry, the cane striking his arse with a stinging slap. 

Draco is a master at whatever he wields, able to bring Harry to the brink of pleasure through pain. As he brings the cane down on Harry’s arse and thighs, Harry can only let out whimpers and cries which to anyone else would sound like he’d had enough, but Draco knows him, and Draco knows those cries mean Harry wants more.

Harry’s skin feels like it’s on fire, the cane bringing a fresh wave of heat with each strike on his skin. The sound of the rattan slicing through the air before it hits him brings an added element, the blindfold over his eyes heightening his hearing. 

His mind is starting to feel foggy, and he sags forwards against his bindings, relaxing into the frame of the cross. He barely registers the slight ache of the leather cuffs digging into his skin, and it takes him a good few seconds to realise that Draco has stopped caning him and is instead unbuckling the restraints at his ankles. 

“You did so well,” Draco murmurs into Harry’s ear as he leans over him to release his wrists. 

Harry allows his head to loll back onto Draco’s shoulder as he smiles up at him, blinking blearily as the blindfold is removed and light hits his eyes. Draco looks down at him carefully, studying him thoughtfully for a moment before he smiles back and holds an arm around Harry’s shoulder to guide him away from the cross. 

Harry feels like he’s floating, like he’s walking on air. He loves feeling so blissed out, so _relaxed_ , and he loves Draco so much for helping him to feel like he does now. 

Draco takes Harry over to a soft, red loveseat and settles him down on it, wrapping him in a fluffy white blanket which feels like a cloud. Harry clutches it together in front of him, and Draco leaves him for a moment only to return with a glass of water at the ready. 

“You always take such good care of me,” Harry says with a smile, leaning against Draco’s shoulder as Draco sits beside him. Draco’s arm curls around Harry’s shoulder to pull him close, and he breathes in deeply, inhaling the lemony scent which Harry has come to associate with Draco. 

“And you take such good care of me,” Draco murmurs affectionately. “You take what I give you so well.”

He leans down to place a kiss on Harry’s head, and inhales deeply. “Let me see your pupils again.” Harry looks up at him, and Draco tuts. “Still as wide as saucers...you really are a slut for pain.” 

He kisses the top of Harry’s head again, and Harry snuggles further into Draco’s shoulder. He’s beginning to feel cold, his body starting to tremble, but he knows that Draco will look after him.

Draco always does.


End file.
